Emotions
by Farhanah
Summary: [SANDLE] What both Greg and Sara felt about their relationship as a couple. The emotions that plague many a couple in reality and how they deal with it, either in private or together.


**DISCLAIMER:** Nothing is mine but the plot and anything unrecognisable.

**Author's Note:** I would like to try out a new writing style whereby each chapter is related to an emotion, and at the same time, keep true to the characters. I'm not sure I have the proficiency or the talent to write the story that way.

Therefore, I have decided that this chapter would be the prime chapter. Whether the story goes on or not will depend on the reviews that I get off of this chapter. If not, I'll just edit the story so that it will be a one-shot.

In the reviews, please tell me what you think of the story and if I should just scrape the whole idea or develop it. So guys, I leave the fate of my fanfic in your capable hands.

By the way, _Italicised_ refers to thoughts, usually.

* * *

**Acceptance**

"This isn't making any sense. Why would he pack up and leave only to return?"

"Maybe he left something behind?"

"How could he have left something behind when he had nothing in the first place?"

Catherine frowned.

"Good point."

A knock resounded and opened. Both Catherine and Nick turned.

"Yeah?"

A spiky-headed blondie looked around quickly, sharp keen eyes taking in everything.

"G…"

"Sorry, have you seen Sara around? I can't find her anywhere."

Nick shook his head. Catherine thought over a second and said, "The washroom maybe?"

"Nope, not there."

Catherine sat up quickly. "And how would you know?"

Greg shrugged nonchalantly and Nick stared at him, the gears spinning and clicking in his head. His eyes widened.

"Don't tell me you…"

Greg only grinned broadly and took no heed of the former swing shift supervisor's mock glare.

"Thanks guys."

Catherine snapped her head so fast Nick thought her neck would break off.

"Can you believe that guy?"

Nick just smirked. "Nothing surprises me anymore."

"Yeah, not from him anyway."

* * *

Greg continued searching for Sara. _She_ _has to be somewhere_, he thought, _but where?_

"Sanders. In my office. Now."

Greg nodded, quietly mumbling his displeasure and closing the door.

Greg stared at Conrad Ecklie, waiting for him to start his patented ramblings. Instead, Ecklie chose to stare at Greg.

The inaction and silence was grating on Greg's nerves.

"What!"

"Manners Sanders."

"Sorry. You wanted to talk to me. What about?"

"Sara - "

"Sara? What about her?"

Greg clenched his clammy hands to stop the tremors. His heart raced and he could feel the pulsating sensation in his ears.

" – and you."

"Huh? And me?"

"Yes, I want to talk to you about Sara and you."

"Is this about the Hartmann case?"

"No," Ecklie snapped. _Just how dumb can this boy be_, Ecklie thought, _the same boy who is now a full-fledged CSI_.

Greg fidgeted. His eyes kept straying to the steady ticking appliance on Ecklie's desk. Greg bit his lips to stave off the urge of pissing Ecklie off anymore than he already had.

A phone rang and Ecklie swore at the phone before signalling to Greg to stay where he was. Greg sighed, his thought frequently going back to his sweetheart.

"All right. I'll be there in a few minutes," Ecklie said as he ended the call.

He turned to Greg.

"I'll cut to the chase. I want you to know that I disapprove very strongly and very much of colleagues dating each other. Especially those on the same shift."

Greg rolled his eyes.

"May I go now?"

"Please do," Ecklie said grudgingly.

* * *

Sara closed her eyes and let the warm and dusty night breeze sweep over her. Its caress was soft and slow.

_Just like Greg's_.

She tucked her wind swept hair behind an ear. She fingered her cell phone, tracing soft fingers over the body again and again. She smiled wanly as she remembered that day.

* * *

(!#$&**Flashback**&$#!)

"What's the occasion, Greg?"

Greg smiled sweetly. "Nothing, I just felt like buying for you."

"This?" Sara held up the gleaming new phone in a hand.

"You don't like it?"

Sara glared and Greg winked at her.

"Tell me. Do I LOOK like a pink-aholic girl to you?"

"No," Greg said, "but I do think you need more colours other than the many shades of black and blue."

"So you choose PINK!"

He grinned again, totally oblivious to the steaming irritation.

"Here, I'll show you how it works," Greg said as he plucked the pink phone from her hand and took off.

"Get back here!"

Greg Sanders' response? A leap over the couch.

A flash came and went, the dull streak of silver swallowed into a certain someone's hand. Meanwhile, the owner of the phone was in hot pursuit.

"Sanders! You are so dead when I get my bare hands on you."

Greg chuckled oh-so not subtly. Nimble fingers worked the SIM card off the phone, slipping it into the new one as Greg continued to lead in their little game.

Just as he was about to dance his victory, Greg found himself trapped in a corner of Sara's bedroom and a dogged determined girl still coming for him.

Greg's mind raced, calculating and concocting his escape. He saw something and his eyes sparkled mischievously.

He waited patiently – a virtue that was hardly associated with the hyperactivity in him.

_I don't like that twinkle. He's up to something,_ Sara thought,_ I know he is._

"Hey Sara!" Greg called out, flashing his favourite pose – the pretentiously cute peace sign.

_Oh, that boy is so asking for it._

Sara stretched her hands, fingers merely a foot away from the grinning face when it disappeared.

"It's a touchdown, people. A touchdown by our very own beloved Greg Sanders!" Greg hollered at the top of his voice in an announcer's manner on his back.

Sara whirled around quickly as deft fingers ran all over the phone's keypad.

"Say cheese!"

Before Sara could even fathom what Greg had said, the shutter sounded…and Sanders laughed.

Sara pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. Her nostrils flared further and her fingers tingled in anticipation.

_Uh oh, I'm dead meat._

Greg twirled the phone around to Sara. She stopped mid-lunge, eyes wide open; and she doubled over – in laughter.

Greg pulled her down, sitting her in his lap and cuddled.

"You have a beautiful laughter, you know."

"Flattery does not guarantee that you won't be socked still," Sara teased.

"Oh well."

(!#$&**End of Flashback**&$#!)

* * *

A star twinkled in the distance and Sara looked up, admiring the simple yet majestic layout blanketing the pitch black sky.

A shooting star tore across the tranquillity, briefly illuminating the darkness in its fiery wake.

Sara closed her eyes and wished.

_Since when do I wish on shooting stars?_

Sara laughed quietly for she already knew the answer.

* * *

"Any idea where she might be?"

"Who?"

"My Ms. Sidle."

"Give her a call."

"I did but there's no reply."

"Leave her a message then."

"You wouldn't believe how many."

"I would."

"You would?"

Mia Dickerson nodded.

"Why would you?"

Mia looked up from the microscope. "If I ever have to sum you up in one word, persistent is a no doubt."

"Oh."

"Go ask others."

"What?"

"About your Ms. Sidle."

"I have. Judy said Sara left with her Tahoe."

"Go track her down then."

"Excuse me? Do you have any idea how big Vegas is? It would take me days!"

"Happy New Year to you too."

"Too?"

"I just got my Happy New Year if you must know."

"Really? But no one came in here before me."

"I know."

Realisation dawned on him.

"Are you referring to me?"

"Were you expecting someone else?" Mia said with a smug.

Greg frowned and pouted.

"Sorry, I'm not a sucker for pout-face guys."

Greg laughed in spite of her remark.

"How about this? Since you are not going to hunt your sweetheart down and there's no DB so far, how about making yourself useful and help me out here?"

"Hey, I'm a CSI now, no more DNA tech. Sorry."

"That's sad. Just be careful not to let Hodges know your DNA skills are rusty already."

"My DNA skills are NOT rusty!" Greg replied defensively.

"Then what could explain the former King of DNA's refusal to do DNA processing?" Mia tilted her head a little in mock curiosity.

"FORMER King of DNA? I shall have you know that the FORMER King is STILL THE King," Greg said as he donned his broken-in lab coat, snapping on a pair of latex gloves loudly and jamming a pair of safety goggles onto his angled hair.

"Bring it on."

Mia pushed half her workload over to Greg, careful to hide her smile of glee.

* * *

(!#$&**Flashback**&$#!)

"How are things with Sanders?"

"Pretty good. Thanks for asking."

"You're welcome. Hey, have Greg ever refused to do what you asked him?"

"Why the question?"

"Nah, I was just wondering. You seem to have him wrapped around your pinkie."

Both Sara and Mia laughed.

"To answer your question, yeah, he has."

"How did you get him to do your bidding?"

"That's easy. You just have to know how to rile him up."

(!#$&**End of Flashback**&$#!)

* * *

_Greg Sanders, you are so whipped._

Both DNA experts worked in silence, the quiet whirr of the centrifuge humming in the background.

"Greg? What are you doing here?"

Greg looked up at his supervisor. "Well, there's nothing to do and I thought I could lend a hand to Ms. I-Need-Help here."

Mia scowled and threw an empty microscope wipe box at Greg.

"I don't NEED your help, Mr former King of DNA. I said, '…make yourself useful and help me out here'."

"Just admit you need me," Greg said as he stuck his tongue out childishly.

"No, I don't!"

"Why don't you just admit Mia doesn't NEED you around, Greg? It'll be easier for everyone that way," Grissom said as he walked away.

"Whatever," Greg grouched, "By the way, it's THE King of DNA."

Mia snorted, shaking her head slightly as she watch Greg stare off in a distance.

"Where are you, babe?" Greg moaned pitifully.

"Why won't you take my calls? Or my voice mails? Are you mad at me?"

Silence transcended for a second.

"Are you?"

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry if I made you mad, honey."

"Please sweetie, call me. Let me know where you are. What if something happens to you? It'll kill me, you know. And I don't think I can live with the guilt."

Mia stared at Greg, clearly dumbfounded.

"Where would you go, baby? Home? No, I don't think so. The Strip? Nah."

"Uh, Greg?"

Greg continued his watch out the window, not hearing Mia calling for him.

_Just keep in mind that it could backfire_, Mia recalled Sara's words, _and when it does, you wished you had never asked him in the first place._

Mia banged her head on the bench.

_Great, I remember that only after all the efforts of plugging his whining by offering my workload._

_Heavenly.

* * *

_

(!#$&**Flashback**&$#!)

_Last night, in Florida, 5 Crime Scene Investigators were gruesomely slaughtered and 2 are currently in critical condition at West Palms Hospital. There were no fingerprints or shoe prints lifted or any evidence at the crime scene was found. According to the spokesperson for CSI Florida, it seems the perpetrator knows what he is doing and is on a bloodthirsty crusade. The Federal Bureau of Investigations has urged that all CSIs in all states be on the lookout and a new Bill will be passed soon that all CSIs are to carry a firearm for self-defence. Meanwhile, all CSIs are to report their locations every 30 minutes until this killer is caught. This is Gerry Fox reporting for Studio 5._

Sara sat, shocked as were everyone else. Catherine covered her mouth, trying fiercely to choke the horror in her voice. Nick was clenching and unclenching his red fists, deeply angered by the fact that his second family was in as much danger as him. Grissom sat on his stool in a rigid posture, intense lines creasing his handsome aging face and Warrick was on the phone with Tina, consoling the terror-stricken doctor. Greg was in a meeting with some attorneys for the forthcoming trial he had to testify.

"No, this can't be real," Sara muttered. "It just can't."

_But you know this is as real as it can be._

Warrick whispered into his phone. "I'll be careful. I promise."

A beat.

"A favour babe?" Warrick glanced at the rest and turned his back, speaking much softer. However, in the dead silence, his followings words were like amplifications.

"If…if anyone…any of my…gang is down, drop everything and ring me first okay?"

Catherine closed her eyes.

"Thanks babe. Yeah, I love you too."

_Greg! Oh God, what if it happens to him? Or to – _

"What are you guys waiting for? Christmas? There's much work to be done out there," Conrad Ecklie's voice boomed.

Five set of eyes stared daggers but Ecklie was oblivious.

"Get moving if you don't want a pink slip coming your way."

Everyone else started moving albeit sluggishly, still weighed down by the terror of the news but Nick refused to budge.

"Do us all a favour. Drop dead and vanish with the vultures and hyenas."

All present stopped and waited.

And waited.

"I will pretend I did not hear that!" Ecklie choked out the words with difficulty.

"Forget it Nicky. The bastard's ain't the worth."

Ecklie was biting his teeth so hard purple veins popped out his temple. "That's it! Both of you! 30 days suspension with no pay leave!"

"Just stop it the three of you!" Grissom bellowed.

"How dare you use that tone on me, Gil Grissom!"

"Shut up and listen! You know we can't afford to lose anyone to suspension, not now! We need everyone on this case and my advice for you is to retract your words."

Grissom and Ecklie stared down, neither willing to submit.

"Fine! But they're not off the hook yet."

Grissom nodded curtly.

"Guys! Guys! You're not going to - " an excited voice echoed eerily in the unusually quiet CSI quarters, heavy thuds of footsteps growing louder with each step.

"Guys!" Greg panted loudly as he barged into the room, a rollercoaster of expressions coloured his softly flushed face.

"Grissom?"

Ecklie turned on his heels and stormed out of the room.

"Rick?"

"Nick?"

_I need to get out of here._

"Excuse me," a figure said and dashed past Greg, the feather-light scent of lavender shampoo trailing behind her.

"Sara! Wait!"

"Let her go."

"What? Guys, what is going on? Why is Sara running away?"

Everyone shook their heads.

(!#$&**End of Flashback**&$#!)

* * *

Sara clasped her hands and stared off into the distance. She watched as the wind blew across the dry and barren land, the beam of her Maglite® Flashlight piercing through the blackness. How the sand were lifted and twirled. How they dance without a care. However, in her mind, she saw nothing but unpleasant scenarios on repeat.

_Baby, help me please. Please sweetie, don't let him take me away. Don't let me die_, the words moaned in her ears hauntingly.

_No, this is not real. It's just a figment of my imagination,_ Sara told herself, willing herself to believe it.

However, the floating image of her lover continued to linger about.

The soft crinkles at the corner of his eyes. The innocent sparkle in his bright wide eyes. The cute red ears that stick out. That nicely sculpted inactive cartilage. The hyperactive gates of knowledge and sweetness stretched across his radiant face. The soft and supple skin curving over his subtle cheekbones and jaw.

_Should I? Should I have accepted his offer in the first place? To become someone that I'm not? To be someone whom I can only dream and fantasise about?_

_Is this a mistake? Where did I go wrong? How did I go wrong? Why did I go wrong?_

Questions after questions swirled in Sara's mind. No matter how hard she looked, she just could not find the answers.

She dropped her head into her hands. It was as if the questions were too much and too heavy for her neck to support her head on its own.

_Do I tell him? If I do, he's going to be devastated and what with all that's going on, we can't afford to lose him. Clark County can't. He's sweet and all but I don't think he understands the gravity of this getting together. This…relationship._

_I love him. I'd do anything for him._

_Wouldn't I?

* * *

Okay, the prime chapter is already down. So, tell me guys, should I continue on with the story or should I scrape the idea all together and stick to oneshots? I don't know. Tell me what you think in your reviews. What you like; what you didn't, just slip them into the reviews._

Thanks a lot guys.

-Farhanah


End file.
